


El Muchacho De Los Ojos Tristes

by Prumery



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, i'm wondering if i will make this a multi fic but for now its a one shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-25
Updated: 2016-10-25
Packaged: 2018-08-24 16:18:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8379043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Prumery/pseuds/Prumery
Summary: 3 a.m. on a Friday, the street is dimly lit and it’s a bad part of town. Hanzo walks down this road, eyes tired and wired on coffee. A small little lonchera is pressed snugly against the corner store and a flower shop.
A teenager that reminds him of sunlight greets him like he’s known him for years and for Hanzo, it makes it easier to pass the days.





	

**Author's Note:**

> If people like this i'll make it into a full fic   
> Well maybe

There’s a soft hiss of an owl far away from him. From the neighbors, he has heard that it’s called a _lechuza_. Hanzo smiles at his random fact, pulls the cigarette from his lips and takes another inhale.

He walks quietly, his steps soft and the large hoodie hiding his eyes and face. There is no one on the street, besides a homeless man underneath the archway of a run down bank. Hanzo puts down a full cup of coffee and a 20 dollar bill from his wallet, hiding it under the cup.

He keeps walking, feeling the coolness of the California chill hit his cheeks. They’re rosy from the cold, but they’ll never be as cold as his lovely Japan in winter. 

Pressing his fingers against a scar on his neck, he remembers why he can’t go back.

There’s a small lonchera snugly put between two stores. He stares at the flickering of the T.V. inside, a soft noise of music fleeting and a gentle laugh of a deep voice.

Hanzo feels his stomach growl, and he walks there, feeling his stomach tell him to get food. Food always seemed to call to him.

“Hello?” He says softly, and a face pops from behind a slide glass door. Big brown eyes stare at him, chocolate hair tied up underneath a hair net. He seemed soft, and Hanzo liked that he wasn’t almost painfully attractive.

Soft. Like chocolate.

“Well hello there, _mi rey_. How may I help you?” The man’s lilt seemed like someone from the south, and his skin was sun kissed. Working man’s hand’s, but soft cheeks and soft eyes.

“Do you recommend something?”

“Mm. I recommend that place over there–” He points to a bakery story that’s closed for the night, and he laughs, “–Nice cakes. Nice pies. Guys a sweetie.”

Hanzo smiled gently, and laughs at his statement. He shakes his head.

“I meant of yours.”

“Ah, now. Don’t you do that to me.”

“Well you are to cater the person paying you.”

He laughs and puts his head in his hands. Softly smiling and cocking his head.

“I think you need something sweet and nice that’ll be as good as you.”

Hanzo’s cheeks flush cherry red, and he laughs again. He rests his hands against the cool metal underneath him, rubbing his fingers over the indent of a cigarette being turned off, and he takes a drink. A jarrito.

He knows it’s pronounced with a small “ha” sound. He points at it, and the man writes it down.

“How about…” He pauses, looked at the menu, and points to one he cannot pronounce. Something about stuffed jalapenos or something.

“Oh, that one is good. Papa makes awesome sauce.” He laughs to himself and writes down the order. Hanzo takes a twenty out, and before he can be given change, he says no.

Keep it.

Jesse smirks, and dissapears. Hanzo stares at the name of lonchera, and smiles at the name.

Medio Dia.

He appears again with the plate, and Hanzo stares.

“Something the matter, _mi rey_?”

“I do not wish to eat alone.” He says, cocking his head at him, and smiling wide, making the man grin. He steps back, and there’s the springing sound of a door opening.

They sit at the small table beside the lonchera, Hanzo smiling as the man brings out a plate of some sort of bread.

“Don’t tell Pa. This was a sweet he made for me.” He puts his spoon into it, and bites down on the spoonful, closing his eyes and sighing happily.

“What is your name?”

“Hanzo.”

“I’m Jesse McCree. Nice to meet’cha, handsome.”

Hanzo takes a spoon he’s offered, dipping his spoon into the bread. It’s a mixture of breads, he can’t decipher them. There’s melted salty cheese on the top, and the rest of the bread is so sweet his teeth ache.

But it’s soft and warm, and with a sip of his soda, it goes down easy. He hums, and leans back against the uncomfortable chair, cracking his neck.

“Why’re you awake so late, Hanzo?”

“School.”

“At 3 a.m.?”

“Studying. And i needed to just walk outside. It got too stuffy.”

“Ah, I see. Sometimes i gotta do that too. Work gets kinda nerve racking.”

“You’re so young. Aren’t you in High School?”

“Nah. Graduated a year ago.” 

Hanzo scratches his growing beard, and hums as he shakes his head.

“School. Awful, awful school.”

Both of them laugh, and Jesse takes a sip of some warm _canela_ , making his breath smell like it and fill up Hanzo’s senses. He smells like spices, it’s nice.

“It’s so late. Ya’ll should go on home.”

“I don’t have to. I can stay here and talk to a stranger.”

“Aw, you hurt me, _mi rey_.” He puts his hand, feigning pain as Hanzo laughs and bites into the chili, wiping his mouth with the napkin, laughing again.

“Mm. But we barely met an hour ago.” He grins at Jesse who takes a sip of his hot drink again, kicking up his legs, and sighing.

“Why are you so late? Usually there isn’t anyone buying burritos at 4 a.m.”

“Ah. That’s where you’re wrong. At times there is a wandering teenager with a cute nose who wants a recommendation.”

Jesse looks into his glass, smirking and Hanzo hisses under his breath, but with no hate. He crosses his arms, and continues eating the sweet.

“Well. I guess you have me there.”

They’re silent for a bit. They are still strangers, and Hanzo is running on 3 hours of sleep.

His hands cup around his drink and he shivers. It’s cold. 

Breath lingers in the air as he looks up and he shivers again. Even his jacket isn’t enough for the chill.

Maybe it’s not the chill. Maybe its the quiet silence of no one awake. The weird alternate reality feel of talking to a stranger, of eating food not from his country, of being in a strange country.

Of being in a stranger’s company.

Jesse dissapears, and brings back a serape, wrapping it around him despite his angry curses that it’s not necessary. Jesse obliges.

He runs his fingers over the crackled glass of the table, and then he looks up at Jesse. He’s soft and warm, and they are strangers.

“You have such sad eyes. They’re cute.”

Hanzo looks away from Jesse, feeling his cheeks turn red again. He coughs into his hand, and stands up, putting away his things.

“I have to leave. It was nice speaking to you.” He bows, and then freezes as he realizes that. He blushes again.

Jesse smiles wide at him, his eyes turning into half moons and his cheeks swelling at the cheekbones. Dimples pop out and Hanzo smiles back.

“Pleasure to meet you, _mi rey_. Please come back. Can’t leave a boy hanging when he finds a cute face like yours.”

Hanzo shakes his head, and takes a small plate of capirotada (as he finally found the name from googling) and waving as he leaves.

Jesse is left alone to finish the cold and surreal night.

Only when Hanzo is laying in his bed does he realize he’s still wrapped in the red serape, smelling of cigarette and canela.


End file.
